


Torn

by Thatkliqkid



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3301724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkliqkid/pseuds/Thatkliqkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn Michaels spirals into dark places to feed his drug habit. Triple H fights to bring him back.<br/>Other warnings: Language/Sexual scenes/drug abuse/addiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Incomplete. Originally written between 2008-2010.

_I'm cold and I am shamed  
Lying naked on the floor_

 

The floor was cold and unyielding beneath his burning torso as he opened sticky eyes, lashes webbed together with the gunk of a thousand unshed tears. The pain throbbed and rippled its way through his body, hurt bleeding from every pore. He welcomed the blackness, liked how it wrapped him in the comforting ignorance of his injuries. He could feel the sting of every cut, the aftermath of every blow but as long as he didn't have to see the extent of the damage he could deny reality. 

A chink of light cast a yellow pathway across the carpet as the door opened, disturbing the sacred shadows. Silhouettes shrouded the doorway and he stiffened,fear rendering him captive as the muscles in his stomach tightened;overwrought with nerves. 

“ Shawn, you in here?” 

Familiar voices, hushed and concerned floated down to accompany him amongst the darkness. The nausea only intensified as Kevin reached for the light switch, plunged the room into brightness. The light brought with it an outbreak of goose pimples prompted by fear and shame, he shivered as they dotted his naked form He wasn't sure how long he'd lain there before they found him marred and broken, didn't think it would matter as their blurred faces towered above. 

“ Holy shit ” the growl splintered the air, the anger fractured within the depths of worry. 

Hunter's features, swam before him, Kevin overlooking in what seemed to be the distance. He raised a heavy limb, fingers reaching desperately for the dignity that had been snatched from him. Hunter clutched for the outstretched hand, clamped the fingers between his own and held them tight hoping to provide some semblance of solace. 

“ 911? Ambulance please” Kevin's voice rained down on Shawn, echoing from across the room where he was stood, shifting agitatedly from foot to foot, tensely barking commands into his cell phone. 

Shawn gurgled, gasped and wheezed trying to speak, frustratedly found that he emoted nothing more than a strangled whimper. 

“ Shhh,” Hunter pacified him, cupped a hand around the elder man's face in an attempt to cleanse the features,more importantly in an effort to soothe him. 

He spluttered, choked on the debris of his own blood, the garnet pulsating from the open wound, painting his golden locks a rich red as it wept a trail down his bruised and battered skin. Still he grasped for Hunter's wrist, dug fingernails into tender flesh in a desperate plea to keep the palm of comfort warm against his face. Hunter ran tentative fingers through sodden strands, grimaced as they returned slick and tacky with blood.

He could feel Hunter trying to dress him one handed, reluctant to remove the hand Shawn had claimed as his security blanket. 

He allowed the hurt to escape on a low hiss as denim jeans scratched at his thighs, ignited the burning pain of the bruises. 

“ Find out where the that ambulance is!” 

The hostile cry echoed around him but with Hunter's hand still warm against his face, comfort overpowered any fear.

He was safe as long as he had Kevin and Hunter.

And with that sense of peace the world finally went black. 

_He's plying him with drink. Beers and whiskeys, shots, he's losing count. Just accepting them with a drunken smile, knowing he can't go through with the rest if he doesn't have the Dutch courage to survive it. He doesn't know his name, doesn't want to know his name. It's better if each notch remains nameless, the pills the holy shrine he's seeking. The light at the end of the pitch black tunnel, the only reason he allows himself to be led from the bar and upstairs to the hotel room._

_Clothes litter the floor as they work their way towards the bed. His hands are trailing through his hair, lips smacking against his own as the tongue parts them, plundering his mouth. He falls and the springs rasp in progress as the mattress rises to meet him. It's lumpy, sordid, but the pills. The pills make him reciprocate._

_And then the hands move from the back of his head to his throat, and the fingers are clamping around his throat, squeezing and throttling, trying to extinguish any bit of life residing in him. He splutters and he claws but the man towering above is stronger, larger, heavier._

_And the bottle he keeps beside his bed for courage becomes his curse as the vodka label careens into view, the glass crashing against his temple with a dull thud, a second blow sends stars spiralling and coloured shapes obscure his view, turning his tormentor shades of purple and green. He can feel the skin break, the blood thick and sticky as it rains down his cheek to coat his hands._

_Hands back around his throat now, the blood invigorating his attempts, pressing with more force._

_“ Filthy Whore ”_

_The words crawls into the crevice of his ear, low and husky with despise and suddenly Shawn craves the darkness, wants nothing more than to die rather than cry as a result of this embarrassment._

 

 

 _I'm wide awake and I can see  
the perfect sky is torn._

He felt like he was choking, like the air in Hunter's living room was heavily crushing against his chest in order to strangle him with the sour stench of bleach and disinfectant. The glare of the hospital remained bright against the inside of his lids as he roused himself from sleep, spluttering against the tearful after-taste of the nightmare. 

The attack and the hospital haunted him, plagued him in his dreams. He didn't have the heart to try and talk it through with Hunter, didn't have the inner strength that would allow him to do so. He didn't want to open that door to anyone other than him. The door that was bolted so that the shame and fear couldn't break free. 

Eyes open the nightmare fluttered away, sought sanctuary amongst the shadows in the nooks and crannies of the unfamiliar. 

Shawn gulped, savouring every mouthful of air. Loved the way it coursed freely through his veins. He surveyed the ceiling high above with faux interest, liked how it kept his thoughts away from the hotel. 

Hunter's house was smaller than his own but he liked it. It seemed more cosy than his sprawling ranch in the hills, and if he couldn't currently be trusted by the doctors to reside alone he'd rather be here. He snuggled further beneath the blankets Hunter had laid upon him, tried not to wince at the remaining bruises and cuts that still stained his flesh. 

He lay there, reluctant to surrender himself back to his subconscious, unsure of what it would present to him. Unwilling to close his eyes and find out.


	2. Chapter 2

Shawn kicked the blankets from him,free from their overwhelming strain he grasped for the remote in the darkness and brought the television to life seeking refuge in late night TV. He startled as the sound ricocheted around the room, the volume much louder than he had expected it to be. 

“ Shut up!” he whispered urgently, aimed the remote wildly and bashed buttons in a frantic panic as he attempted to lower the booming voice crackling around him. 

Relief flooded through him as the noise softened, he turned to pick the blankets from the floor and froze at the sight of Hunter, illuminated by the glare of the television screen,blearily staring at him from the doorway; dressed only in the boxers that he had up until a few seconds ago, been sleeping in. 

“Sorry did I wake you?” 

“ No I regularly get up in the middle of the night and wander into the lounge” Hunter replied sarcastically. 

“ Sorry man. I couldn't sleep. I thought I'd watch TV til I could” apologised Shawn. Hunter yawned, ran a hand through knotted locks as he ventured into the living room. 

“Don't worry about it, “ he murmured, “ You ok?” 

“ Sure.” Shawn replied quickly as he clambered back onto the sofa. 

“You don't sound too certain” Hunter challenged, claiming the seat beside him. 

“ I'm fine Hunt” Shawn muttered, pointedly turning his attention to the flickering images on the screen. 

“ When was the last time you got a full night's sleep?” Hunter interrogated. 

“ At the hospital” 

“ Without the aid of a concussion smart ass” 

Shawn's eyes remained glued to the screen, he wasn't even remotely interested in the cheap silver kettle being hoisted on the screen, held aloft by the telemarketer as if it were made of solid gold, but it beat trying to answer Hunter's question. He hadn't had a sound night's sleep since before the beating. Even pills didn't have the power to block the nightmares from claiming his soul, they made him drowsy but they didn't kill the self loathing that consumed him. 

“ Well?” 

The telemarketer was bringing out plates now, hideously patterned china in a variety of disgusting colours. Shawn was bewildered as to who would pay $19.95 for such awful dinnerware. He preferred to dwell on trivial matters in favour of his own, conjuring up the strange halfwit who would pay an obscene amount for such awfulness, painting them in his mind's eye instead of answering Hunter. 

“ Shawn, I know you're not interested in the plates. They're fucking foul-” 

Shawn turned slowly, looking but not really seeing. He didn't want to talk about himself. Talking about himself would lead him down the slippery slope of revelation and he couldn't handle Hunter's reaction right now; didn't want to see adoration mutate to abhorrence by the secrets that were yearning to spill from cracked and broken lips. 

“ I'm worried about you” Hunter admitted finally, shattering the seemingly eternal silence. 

“ You shouldn't be” Shawn mumbled.

“ I can't help it,” 

Shawn glanced from the screen, studying Hunter through the corner of his eye. The mass of concern he could see there sickened him. The injustice of it all. It wasn't fair to Hunter, to worship one so flawed. 

_Should have seen just what was there  
and not some Holy light_

 

“I don't want you to feel sorry for me.” 

“ I don't. I worry about you, there's a difference. “

“ But I don't deserve it!” 

“I can't help it” Hunter repeated. “ Shawn, you know I care about you -” 

“ No”

The denial was creaky, the word splintering on the threat of fracture, ready and waiting to allow the dam of emotion to burst. 

A trembling sigh as he desperately clung to the pretence of composure. 

“ What do you mean 'no'?” Hunter questioned, words stained with confusion, “ Of course I do.”

He baulked nervously, fearful that he'd revealed too much, a thread of worry that he was taking advantage of Shawn in his vulnerable state – allowing his feelings to run a mock in a fashion akin to a schoolboy crush. 

“ We're friends” he salvaged. Shawn remained silent, gaze transparent through its film of sorrow, eyes wounded. 

“ You shouldn't,” he warned softly, composure threatening to topple once more. 

“ Why?” asked Hunter more sharply than he attended, Shawn's self-hatred cutting him far deeper than he'd have imagined it would. 

“ I hurt everyone. Everything I touch, it, i-it falls to pieces” Shawn stammered, seemingly lost in his own world of despise, tears birthing under half closed lids, the self pity bursting forth. 

A reassuring hand claimed him, so warm and gentle, safety seeping to heat his skin. 

“ Don't” Shawn commanded, repelling the touch. 

“ I want to” 

“ You don't know what you're doing!” 

Panic flooded him as he tried to wriggle free, squirming from the tender touch, not caring that hurt now scarred Hunter's features. It was for his own good, damn it why didn't he see that? 

“ Shawn-”

“ I'm filthy, disgusting -” Shawn hissed, the vile contempt spat with such venom Hunter yearned to fold him in his arms and make the loathing disappear. He inched closer and Shawn snapped. 

“ Don't pity me!” he cried, swinging arms protectively, slapped Hunter away in an effort to shield himself. 

“ I don't pity you” snapped Hunter, stung. 

“ You don't know what I've done,” whimpered Shawn, anger fading to distress, he pulled himself further onto the couch, dragged knees to meet his chest, body angled as far away from Hunter as physically possible. He buried his face against his knees, relishing in the hiding place. 

“ I don't care what you've done” Hunter said, “ I care about what that bastard did. Just talk to me.” 

Upon gaining no response he ventured slightly further, desperate to breach the gorge between them, fingers itching to rise, longing to clamp a soothing hand around Shawn's shoulder. He refrained, knowing how unkindly Shawn had taken his last attempt to offer solace. 

“ You'll hate me” Shawn murmured speaking to his feet. 

“ I won't” 

“ You will!” argued Shawn

“ Try me” Hunter demanded. 

A lengthily silence claimed them, steeped in Shawn's reluctance. 

“ Tell me what happened back at the hotel in Syracuse” Hunter pleaded softly. 

Shawn licked his lips, tried to vanquish the dryness that plagued him. Gulped deeply in an attempt to allow the words that were currently lodged in his throat to break free. 

“ That guy in the hotel-” he began hoarsely, the whisper cracked and frayed, “ He, I, I slept with him” 

Hunter nodded, bemused as to why Shawn felt this was some sort of sordid revelation. It was obvious what had unfolded between Shawn and his mysterious assailant in the hotel. What hadn't been as crystal clear was how Shawn came to be bathed crimson as a result. A mystery that still caused Hunter's fists to clench and his heartbeat to quicken with unbridled rage whenever he saw the mauve and purple that still darkened Shawn's skin. A pulse of protectiveness beat steadily through his torso as he watched Shawn lay his chin against his raised knees, ignominy radiating from him. 

“ He was supposed to give me pills” Shawn confessed, eyes closed, the words barely audible, strung together so swiftly that they were barely tangible. 

Hunter stiffened. 

“ What?” he questioned, dumbfounded. Blood roared and pounded, drowning any sense of rationality as he felt his thoughts narrow to destruction and torture of the guy Shawn had stupidly bargained his soul to in return for the promise of a hell disguised under a chalky guise which he so eagerly craved. 

“ I told him I'd sleep with him if he gave me some pills” Shawn choked, the thread of tears distinguishable amongst his breathless confession. 

“ What the fuck would you do something like that for?” snarled Hunter furiously, all the space between them now seemed far too narrow in the wake of his frustration. His anger mounted as Shawn shrugged, seemingly lost for a suitable answer. 

“ You idiot” he spat, unable to prevent the rage from spilling over. 

“I know” seethed Shawn, teeth clenched as he rounded to face his friend, “ I know what I did was stupid ok? I thought I'd be alright, the first time it happened I didn't even mean to-” 

 

“You didn't mean to? What, you just agreed to sleep with some guy in exchange for pills by accident?” snorted Hunter mockingly.

“ Yes” replied Shawn sharply. He watched, as Hunter took in all he'd said, the look of amazement as he understood his friend hadn't been the victim of circumstance, that he'd foolishly engineered his own downfall.

“ You've done this more than once?” 

“ A couple of times .” Shawn muttered. “ The first guy, I met him in a club. I thought it was some drunken one night stand, he thought I was looking for payment. He didn't have any cash so he just left some pills whilst I was sleeping. I woke up and there they were, on the dresser, I couldn't just leave them-” 

Shawn faltered, unable to convey to Hunter how the sight of those pale tablets splayed across the varnished top had held him captive, how they'd niggled at his conscience, berating any sense of restraint until he'd cracked and shoved them down his worthless throat, gobbling them down like a child gorging on candy. 

“ Anyway it's just sex.” He finished, tone low, “ It doesn't mean anything” 

“ Don't you have any respect for yourself?” Hunter asked, sickened, “ You'll seriously just throw yourself at anyone with a pulse as long as they give you a hit?!Don't you have one ounce of self control? ” 

“ I guess not” said Shawn coldly, he shifted, turned his back on Hunter, to study his feet again. His feet weren't judging him, nor did they look at him like he was cringe-worthy. An embarrassment, that's all he'd be to Hunter now. Some sick junkie who sold himself for painkillers. He probably made his skin crawl. The first shallow sob broke free, spurred by self-pity, spluttered breathlessly against Shawn's knees. 

Guilt gnawed relentlessly at Hunter, the sear of fault burned deep within his gut as it fought through the wall of anger at the sound. 

“ Don't, don't do that” he muttered uncomfortably. 

“ Go away” Shawn moaned, words thick and stilted through his tears. 

“ It's my house,” Hunter said, words only half lilted with mockery. 

“ Fuck off!” roared Shawn, with the TV remote as his only weapon he hurled it, an exasperated growl of dismay as it missed its intended target, bounced instead to the floor with a taunting crack. 

“ I didn't mean it the way it sounded,” tried Hunter, his lie hollow. They both knew he'd meant it exactly the way it had sounded. Disgusted by Shawn's lack of self worth and his shackling to addiction, venom had coursed in the guise of friendship. He was trying to be cruel to be kind, but Shawn was never one to accept tough love. He wanted agreement or he didn't want you. 

“ You're a liar” Shawn accused, a hearty sniff as he smeared the tears to oblivion. 

“ You're a fucking liar” he added, more confidence in the assertion now as he attempted to regain his dignity.

Hunter shrugged, feigned nonchalance, acting as if the words had little effect. Didn't want to show Shawn anymore of himself than he already had. He'd already revealed far too much of his hand. He'd keep the rest of his cards close to his chest in this sick game they were playing. 

“ I'm not gonna sit and argue with you,”he muttered finally, “ We'll talk in the morning ok?” 

Shawn refused to respond, choosing to focus his attention on the flickering screen, the notification of “Service resumes at 6am” seemingly of more importance than Hunter's attempt to extend the olive branch, however short it may be. 

A huffy sigh and Hunter stood, made his way for the door; unwilling to sit and be manipulated into Shawn's drama any longer. He'd tried to make amends, no matter that it was a poor attempt, Shawn refuted and considering the situation they were in Hunter felt maybe Shawn should try to understand his reaction. 

His hand was wrapped around the handle when Shawn's words halted him. 

“You said you wouldn't hate me” 

The whisper was heavy in the air between them, tense and thick in its pain. 

Hunter shut the door behind him with a bang, desperate to escape. The door was unyielding beneath him, he rested his head wearily against it, eyes shut in a desperate attempt to wipe Shawn's heartache from being imprinted before his eyes. 

With a defeatist sigh he opened them, stared helplessly ahead. 

The heartache remained.


	3. Chapter 3

_You don't seem to know, seem to care_  
 _What your heart is for_ _Well I don't know him any more_

 

Hunter awoke from a restless sleep around noon, crept through the living room where Shawn still lay sleeping. He didn't have the courage to wake him, would rather let him sleep than face talking to him; couldn't quite reach the words that could absolve the guilt that weighed heavily on his soul. He stood on the threshold of the living room and the kitchen, a dejected groan escaping his lips at the sight of the mess and clutter that resided there as a result of Shawn's stay and the lack of tidying they'd done.

He was piling pots and pans into the sink when the doorbell rang, followed shortly by a hefty knock. Hunter answered to find Kevin standing on his doorstep.

“ Sorry to just drop by. I tried calling but you two never really did believe in answering your cells,” he teased, following Hunter into the hallway, “ How is he?”

“Shawn's still sleeping,” Hunter warned him, “ It was a late night,”

“ Late why?”

“ Shawn couldn't sleep,”

“ Somas?” asked Kevin, the concern evident in his tone.

“ Nah, he was sober”

A flicker of relief passed over Kevin's face before another thought struck him.

“ Nightmares?”

“ I think so,” admitted Hunter. He led his friend into the kitchen, bypassed Shawn's sleeping form, neither of them wishing to wake him. They knew how fleeting sleep had become to Shawn. He was best left to catch as much rest as he could before nightmares returned to plague him. Hunter watched with a slight smirk as Kevin twisted his face in disgust at the chaos surrounding them in the kitchen.

“ Don't you two know how to clean?”

“The maid took the month off,” said Hunter sarcastically, “ Fancy giving me a hand in here?”

“ Sure, you can pay me later.”

Kevin plunged his hands into soapy water, felt the skin tingle as the hot water nipped at him. He set about washing the dishes, grimaced at the sight of day old food seemingly cemented against some of the plates. Hunter stood beside him, armed with a tea-towel, ready to take wet crockery.

The low whine reached them from the living room, followed by a disjointed mumble. Kevin left the dishes, stood in the door way, hands dripping with the remains of soapsuds surveying Shawn with worry. The blankets lay entangled on the floor as he kicked at them, fighting off some invisible force, a frightened and urgent murmur torn from his lips as he did so.

Kevin jarred forward, heading to soothe, but tentative in action. Hunter would be the better choice, Hunter knew how Shawn would react.

The force seemed to ease as quickly as it had strengthened, Shawn came to a rest sprawled against the sofa, one hand across his face, the other limply stretched towards the floor, still lost in a world only he could see. He grumbled beneath his breath as he shifted, ended up snuggled against the sofa as he slept on.

Kevin sighed a relief tinged breath, turned to find Hunter still stood in the kitchen, hands nervously gripping the counter top before him. He watched as the younger man reached for the mug he had been in the middle of drying prior to Shawn's outburst, watched him focus his attention on it so that he wouldn't have to see Kevin's quizzical stare.

“ What's happened?” asked Kevin, after several moments of silence.

“ Nothing” Hunter lied, aiming all his attention on the mug in his hand. He stared at it so long the pale blue began to hurt his eyes.

“ Don't give me that crap Paul. Usually you'd have been straight by Shawn's side. Now what's the deal?”

The mug returned to its rightful place, Hunter turned back to the draining board, seeking out knives and forks, still reluctant to answer Kevin's question. Shawn's traits easily rubbed off it seemed.

“ Paul,” warned Kevin.

It was all too reminiscent of the night before, with Hunter now finding himself reluctantly shoehorned into Shawn's place. and Hunter felt his stomach churn with blame and fault. A flash of Shawn's stricken face surfaced before his mind's eye.

“ We had a fight,” Hunter admitted finally, scrubbing at the fork with over excessive force, venting his frustration on the innocent cutlery, “ A difference of opinion if you will.”

Kevin resumed washing dishes, patiently awaiting the rest of the story.

“ We said some things,” said Hunter, “It'll work out.”

“ Said what things?”

“ It doesn't matter,” Hunter resumed focus on the plates, the towel squeaked against the ceramic surface,

“ Stupid in the heat of the moment things” he offered eventually, the silence demanding he at least attempt to fill the void building.

“ Look if you don't want him here, he can always crash at my place.”

“ Don't be stupid Kev, you know I don't mind him staying here,” snapped Hunter, “ It was a petty argument. It'll blow over.”

“ Yeah? Well make sure it's soon. He needs us man”

“ I know,” Hunter seethed, “ I'm trying Kev ok? It's just pretty difficult right now when he-”

He turned to put a plate away, startled as the Shawn's form filled the doorway,eyes misted with sleep, rubbing a weary hand across his face; his words fading to oblivion with guilt.

“ Kev,” Shawn acknowledged, his tone hitching with glee.

“ Shawnie” he replied, pulling him affectionately into a hug. Shawn winced as he struck his collarbone, the bruise faded but still fresh. Kev released him swiftly, guilt etched on his features.

The glance between Kevin and Hunter was subtle, a one steeped in concern for his well-being but not subtle enough to escape Shawn's notice.  Paranoia twisted it from concern to condemnation.

_“Filthy whore ”_

It stained him like some perverse label. He knew it did.

Shawn took a swift step back, jaw jutting in an angry line of defiance, a deathly glare aimed in Hunter's direction. 

He should have known Hunter wouldn't keep his mouth shut, had set himself up for betrayal and yet the anger still burned. The hurt still stung. It was his choice to tell Kevin, not Hunter's.  He narrowed his gaze to slits of ire. 

“ Want me to leave so you can finish talking about me?” he spat harshly. 

“ We weren't talking about you.” 

“ Bullshit!” cursed Shawn furiously, “I'm not stupid Hunter, I know what you're doing.”

“I'm not doing anything,” retorted Hunter curtly, “Unless  the dishes count.” 

“ Funny,” snapped Shawn dryly. 

“ Play nice children,” Kevin joked, trying to diffuse the tension before it mutated into a screaming match. Shawn glared between them, hostility seething from his indignant form. He went to the fridge, grabbed a drink and retreated back into the living room, claiming sanctuary on the sofa he had adopted as his own. He buried himself in blankets, the can of soda awakening with a hiss. He would rather sit alone than face judgement. 

“ Looks like that argument's really blowing over.” 

“ Shut up,” muttered Hunter furiously. 

“ I'll go talk to him,” 

“ Good luck with that,” sniped Hunter quietly. 

Shawn was lying on the sofa with the television blaring,  wheel of fortune overpowering any thoughts he may have held. 

“ Budge up,” Kevin commanded, squashing beside him. Shawn grudgingly obeyed, curling his feet so that Kevin could sit comfortably. 

“ Wanna tell me what's going on?” 

“ Missisippi,” Shawn ignored him, making a guess at the partially revealed word on the contestant's board flashing on the TV screen, “ You think if I went on here I'd win?” 

“ No,” Kevin grinned as Minnesota was given as the correct answer, “ You could always try Family Feud again though.” 

“ I'd get the car.” 

“ Of course” laughed Kev, “ You'd get the dollar jackpot too” 

“ Yep,” Shawn took another swig from the open coke can, “ Why are you here Kev?” 

“ What, I need a reason to visit now?” 

“ Did Hunter tell you to come?” asked Shawn suspiciously

“ No, I came to see how you were,” snapped Kevin, offended, “ Hunter never even knew I was coming.” 

Shawn traced the ring pull with his finger, watched the droplets of coke pool around the rim. 

“ Talk to me,” 

“ About what?” he sighed.

“ You know what.”

“ Hunter not tell you about that either?” Shawn questioned sarcastically. 

“ No he didn't.” 

“ Whatever,” snapped Shawn, shifting so he could stare at the television again. 

“ So you're going to wallow is that it? You're just going to lie here drinking soda, watching game shows for the rest of your life?” 

“ No. I'll  watch basketball too.” 

“ Hilarious.” 

“ I thought so.” 

“ I don't think you're funny Shawn. I think you're scared.” 

“ I'm not scared.” 

“ You're seriously gonna let that son of a bitch get away with what he did to you?”

“ He already got away with it didn't he?” spat Shawn angrily, decibels rising in fury “ Police can't find the fucker, why should I be any different?” 

“ Because you know what went on in that room!” 

Hunter appeared in the doorway, clutching the tea towel with an urgent vehemence, determined that Shawn at least get to choose the circumstances in which he divulged his secret this time. A pitiful attempt to rectify his own mistake.  

“ Maybe you should leave it Kev,” he advised softly. 

Shawn shot a look of confusion in his direction. 

Kevin rubbed a hand wearily across his face. 

“ You're probably right. Look, I'm sorry. I'll go ok?” 

“ Fine, leave.” replied Shawn shortly. He stared blankly at the screen. 

Commercial after commercial unfolded before his eyes. He didn't know what they were advertising, didn't care as long as they held his focus. 

He listened as Hunter led Kevin out. Heard Kev insist that Hunter call him if he needed him. 

Where were they all when he needed them? 

Where were they when the vodka bottle came careening into view? 

_“You asked for this you dirty son of a bitch .”_

 

He aimed the remote at the television and watched the bars glow green, the volume ever rising, until he couldn't hear himself think any more. 

 

_Crawl beneath my veins and now  
I don't care, I have no luck_

They tiptoed around each other in the wake of Kevin's departure. Their grievances with each other still simmering in the air surrounding them. The kitchen was a lot cleaner, and as the day progressed Hunter remained there. Carving his own sanctuary in a culinary haven. 

Shawn remained in the living room, drowning in a sea of memories that he could no longer remain afloat. He was hurt and confused. Wary of Hunter and his disapproval and fearful of even attempting to talk to him. 

Hunter busied himself preparing dinner, using food as a distraction from his own thoughts. Unwilling to converse with Shawn, far too afraid of where it would lead. He didn't want to let his feelings overwhelm him, to succumb to his anger and lash out again. He'd done enough damage as it was.  He carried on preparing the meal, fussing around vegetables and raw meat, focusing on making a decent meal, a contrast to the pizza and take-out the pair had been living on for the past couple of weeks, using the knife in a therapeutic manner he was almost oblivious of Shawn heading upstairs with fresh towels. 

“ I'll be down in time for dinner,” Shawn assured him from the stairwell.

Shawn shut the door with a snap and bolted the door behind him. The faucet came to life with a shriek, hot water cascading into the bathtub with a vengeance.  He sat on the corner and watched it gush an angry pathway. 

The attack kept haunting him, and the vile words kept encircling a tortuous pathway no matter what he did. Television could only distract him for so long before it all came back. A look from Hunter, with the depths of disappointment, Kevin's concern, it all brought it flooding back. 

He was disgusting. Vile. 

He deserved it. 

Water washed away all sins but maybe he had too many sins to wash away.  He was so caked in filth and dirt his soul was rotting, festering so badly that even Hunter wouldn't absolve him. 

He needed to cleanse himself, to rid himself of the badness residing within. 

He glanced down as the bathtub steadily began to fill, the water levels rising.  He glanced over at the bathroom cabinet. 

Maybe he'd have to help the water free him of his sin. 

Hunter had served dinner and set the food on the table and yet there was no tell tale creak on the stairs to announce Shawn's arrival. 

He felt nervousness coil tight in his stomach as he realised how long Shawn had been in the bathroom alone. 

There was no water running when he arrived at the top of the stairs, nor were there any sounds of movement. 

He rapped his knuckles lightly against the bathroom door. 

“ Shawn? You nearly done in there? Dinner's ready,” 

“ 'kay,” Shawn called his voice thick and muffled, “ Be out in a sec.” 

Hunter faltered,something in Shawn's tone sounding not quite right “ You alright in there?” 

“ Fine,” replied Shawn sharply, his declaration accompanied by a frantic splashing of water. 

“ You sure?” 

A low whimper crept beneath the door frame. Hunter turned the door handle, rattled it in frustration as it refused to budge. 

“ Open the door Shawn,” he commanded. 

He waited, seconds seeming endless  as the door remained locked. 

“ I'm going to count to three and then I'm coming in ok?”

Three fell from his lips as he ploughed his shoulder into the door, wood fracturing and snapping beneath his weight as the lock gave way, the door caving to his force as he burst into the bathroom. 

Shawn's eyes were glistening with the threat of unshed tears as he sat, hunched in the tub, the bottle slipping from his fingers in fright at the sight of Hunter. It landed with a clatter, rolled to a stop beside Hunter's feet. He picked it up, turned the label in his hands. 

Bleach.

“ What the hell have you done?” 

Shawn shivered in the water, eyes wide and answers unforthcoming. 

Hunter dived for the plug, allowed the water to escape. He reached for the faucet, grappled for cold water gently but firmly guided Shawn beneath it so he could sluice the disinfectant from his skin. The water rained down on him, cold and soothing, washing away the remnants. 

He scooped water in his palm, poured it over Shawn's face, repeated the urgent cycle until he was sure the bleach was gone. He cradled Shawn's jaw in his palm, tilted his head upwards so he could look at him properly. 

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” 

“ I needed to be clean.” Shawn told him quietly, “ I was trying to make it go away, to wash all the dirt off” 

His words fractured and he halted. 

“ I didn't want you to keep hating me.” 

Hunter pulled him close, let out an apologetic groan as Shawn buried his head against his chest, grasping for his now sodden shirt, searching for his hand, desperately intertwining fingers. 

“ I don't hate you. I never hated you,” he muttered sharply into the elder man's hair, “ I'm sorry Shawnie. I'm so sorry.” 

The cistern gurgled, swallowing Shawn's bitter sobs as Hunter held him, his own tears of remorse distorting the world around him. 

They stayed in each other's arms, lost and desperately trying to find each other in the gorge they'd carved between them.


	4. Chapter 4

_There's just so many things  
that I can't touch I'm torn _

 

Hunter pressed him firmly back against the couch, brushed stray strands of ash blond away from Shawn's neck in order to claim his throat with his mouth. He dropped light kisses soothingly against blemished skin, let out a shuddering sigh of yearning as Shawn arched his back with a desperate whimper trying to keep the solace Hunter's lips gave him. 

Hunter leant back, straddled the elder man so that he was able to gaze down. He traced a finger over Shawn's Adams apple, brought it to a halt at the base of his neck. 

Shawn lay beneath him, heart hammering profusely in his chest as the panic battled to override the rationality. He was waiting for the tender to turn torturous, for the loving caress to becoming a tight and unyielding grasp. Even if it was Hunter, he wouldn't fault him for wanting to punish him. For wanting to extinguish the badness that resided in his rotten soul. 

_There's a hand hovering over his mid-section, drifting lower, until its beneath his waistband._

Hunter's hand traced the path, not knowing the number of predecessors that had already woven eager fingers. 

_Raspy croaks of approval, almost salivating at the thought of such rapture._

Shawn wrestled for Hunter's hand, brought its leisurely trail to a halt in a firm grasp fuelled by frantic fear. 

“ Wait,” he whispered pleadingly, “ just-” 

He stalled, unable to convey his reluctance, fearful that the words would be misinterpreted. 

Too late he saw the look in Hunter's eyes change. Any lust that had shone there had been dampened, the debris that remained was wounded pride. 

“ Listen-” began Shawn nervously, “ I just-”

“ Save your breath. I get it,” snapped Hunter, his words curt. He pulled away, stripping Shawn of the secure warmth he had provided. 

Wounded pride had the nastiest habit of manifesting itself into vicious spite. 

“ You're such a fucking whore” 

And then the flash of glass, blurred as it smashed against his face.

 

Shawn awoke with a startled gasp, towels damp and twisted  beneath sweat soaked flesh, heart thudding hard and heavy against his ribs as he slowly came to the realisation that he was alone. 

His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could make out posters on the wall. 

Hunter's bedroom. 

“ Hunt?” he whispered. Upon receiving no reply he scrambled from the bed, fingers stretched forwards as he blindly felt for the light switch, plunging the room into brightness his breathing eased. 

He sank against the wall, head spinning. 

What the hell kind of dream was that?

 

Hunter lay on the sofa, one arm sprawled across his forehead as he desperately tried to escape the clutches of insomnia. He'd given Shawn his bed after the whole incident with the bleach, figured he would appreciate it more than the couch. 

Yet here he lay unable to sleep, too many thoughts buzzing around his head. Too much concern pulsating through his  veins, worried for Shawn, worried for his job. Vince had told him to take care of Shawn, but his kindness would only stretch so far before he'd have to leave Shawn to fend for himself, or drag him back to work before he was ready – neither options looked remotely appealing. 

He turned back to the glow of the television screen. It had only taken him until around midnight to figure why Shawn loved the damn thing so much. He'd never been one to sit and watch mindless drivel but he was appreciating it now, it was something that required no thinking. He had it muted, wasn't really interested in the cheesy dialogue he felt sure would accompany the B-movie he'd found, he was content just watching the characters trudge aimlessly through some supposedly scary scenario until it bored him enough that he slept. 

The creak of the stairs grabbed his attention and he saw Shawn's silhouette adorn the wall opposite. He heard the elder man mutter softly at the offending floorboard, apparently concerned he'd woken him. 

“ Shawn?”

“ Fuck!”

“ It's ok, I was awake anyway” 

“ You scared me” Shawn informed him defensively, “What are you doing? Spying on me?” 

“ No,” laughed Hunter, “ Just not sleeping. What are you doing sneaking around in the dead of night anyway?” 

“ I just wanted to get some water.” 

“ Oh ok.” 

He watched as Shawn set about getting his water, bypassing the glasses and instead rummaging in the back of the cupboard until he resurfaced with a paper cup yanked from the stack Hunter had acquired as surplus from the summer cook outs. 

“ I have glasses you know” 

“ No this is ok.” 

“ Shawn, seriously use a glass. Those paper cups have been in there a while,” Hunter persisted. 

“ Really this is fine, I don't mind.” 

“ I'll get you one.” 

“ I said I don't mind!”snapped Shawn sharply, wrenching the cup he was holding backwards as if afraid Hunter was going to come grab the drink from him by force. In his haste it slipped from his grasp, bounced to the floor, coating the tiles and his feet in the spilled water. 

“Aw shit!”

He was on his knees trying to soak the water up with paper towels when Hunter intervened. 

“ Leave it man, it's not the end of the world.”

“ I was fine with the paper cup. Why wouldn't you leave me alone? It's your fault.”

“Sure it is” Hunter humoured him, “ Get up, get your water. It's fine.” 

“ I have to clean it up!” insisted Shawn angrily. 

“ Fine do what you want,” muttered Hunter beneath his breath, busying himself near the faucet. He filled a glass whilst Shawn obsessed over smearing the puddle into nothingness. 

Shawn rose, scrunched sopping towels into a ball and aimed for the garbage can, a flicker of annoyance crossed his face as it rebounded on the rim to land back on the floor. He turned, and saw Hunter reaching for him, glass in hand and startled, stumbling backwards in such haste that he slipped and crashed to the floor, head meeting the door frame with a sickening crack. He emitted a moan of pain, ragged with frustration and remained where he was, entangled on the floor, wishing the room would quit spinning around him. 

“ Shawn? Hey! Look at me!” The words seemed distant when accompanied by a sharp snapping of fingers, almost echoing in his daze. 

Hunter was on his knees before him, hand cupped beneath his chin, anxiously trying to gain his attention. 

“ 'M'alright,” he mumbled, “ Get off” 

“ You hit your head-” worried Hunter. 

“ I said I'm alright!” snarled Shawn shoving him away with as much might as he could muster from his position on the floor, 

“ How many fingers am I holding up?” asked Hunter giving him the finger in response. 

“ One,” Shawn replied, a thread of amusement in his tone. Hunter squashed beside him, knees splayed so they were almost touching. They sat in silence for several seconds 

“ You don't have to be a prick all the time you know?” 

“ You started it,” retorted Shawn petulantly.  

“ How? By offering you a glass?” scorned Hunter, “ The dangerous, scary drink container-”

“They are when they're aimed for your fucking head!” Shawn exploded furiously, his ire silencing Hunter. 

“ I didn't aim it at your head,” he pointed out finally. 

“ No,” admitted Shawn softly, plucking at the hem of the t-shirt he had stolen from Hunter's floor self-consciously. 

“ Did you think I would?” Hunter's eyes widened, “I was just handing it to you.” 

“ I know ok!” 

“ So you just tried to concuss yourself for the hell of it?” asked Hunter sarcastically, “ Smart move Shawn,” 

“ Shut up! Just shut the fuck up. You think you're so damn funny all the fucking time, well you're not! You're just an asshole,” cried Shawn furiously, anger too overwhelming to be contained inwardly. He didn't care if he was more furious at himself for being so stupid, for making one mistake after the other, for always letting Hunter see how easily screwed up he was. He didn't care if he was to blame more often than not, he just wanted Hunter to feel as bad as he did. 

“ Oh come on Shawn, don't hold back, tell me what you really think,” sneered Hunter, temper rising, “ It's not my fault you're insane.” 

Shawn's eyes darkened with disgust, lips tightened in dismay.

“ I'm not,” he croaked, the words sounding uncertain even to himself. His brows furrowed in concentration, could feel the tears building and blinked in rapid succession in an attempt to make them leave. He was sick of crying, of showing Hunter how easy it was to get to him. He wasn't supposed to do that, he was supposed to be above caring, he was meant to be untouchable, not able to feel this mess of heartache coursing through his veins. Damn it, that's why he needed his pills.  

He flinched as Hunter's hand found his. 

“ I'm sorry ok? I didn't mean that.” 

“ Yeah, you say a hell of a lot of things you don't mean,” snapped Shawn pulling away, created a gap between them so that he could no longer feel Hunter's flesh hot and heavy against his own. He slowed abruptly as the world lurched, dragging nausea from deep in his gut, he steadied himself, refuting Hunter's attempt to help. 

“ Don't touch me alright?” 

“ Alright,” replied Hunter, holding hands up pointedly. “ I'm sorry. You just pissed me off. I try to make sure you're ok and you're just so damn defensive all the time.” 

“ You're constantly looking at me, acting like I'm about to do something stupid-” he trailed off, the look on Hunter's face reminding him he'd already done that, “ Ok, ok so I did some stupid things but I don't need you constantly on at me like I can't take care of myself. I'm not incapable!” 

“ I know you're not,” 

“ Yeah well start acting like it.” muttered Shawn bitterly. 

“ Look if all we're going to do is argue, maybe you should go stay with Kev,” Hunter suggested briskly. 

“ You kicking me out?” 

“ No,” sighed Hunter exasperated, “ I'm just saying, if we can't get along you'll be better off at Kevin's,” 

“ We get along,”

“ Oh yeah, second fight in as many nights. We're tight man,” jibed Hunter, “ Like that!” 

Shawn stared at Hunter's entwined fingers, face solemn. 

“ I think so,” he acknowledged quietly, “ Least you care right? It's people you don't give a shit about you let do what they want. Friends, you tell them straight up – you're being a prick. Right? You make sure they're ok? That's us right?” 

Shawn was rather urgent in his questioning as if desperate to clarify their friendship.  Hunter wondered if part of his franticness resulted from withdrawals from the painkillers he'd been unable abuse whilst staying under his roof, or if there was some lonely part of Shawn's self esteem that still thought everyone around him hated him regardless of what they said. It seemed that paranoia held Shawn captive, everyone and everything had an ulterior motive – they were out to get him, out to lie and screw him over. Out to prove him for the worthless creature he seemed to think he was. Niceties were just part of the disguise, lulling him in before striking, punishing him for the person he'd become. 

Sometimes being with Shawn hurt. Trying to stay on the right side of a mood swing was actually painful, and no matter how laid back he tried to be, Hunter couldn't quite keep his anger in check around his friend. He tried, God he tried but there was only so much attitude a person could take before their patience cracked and splintered into irretrievable pieces. And so they fought more often than not, a battle of wills in a fight for sanity. To keep his own Hunter would apologise, partly to try and salvage Shawn's peace of mind but mostly to get him to shut up. He didn't want to hear the babble of self-loathing and more importantly he didn't want to see that look. It was a look Hunter had grown accustomed to lately, the one where Shawn looked at him as if he'd personally killed all his family, set his dog on fire, stole his cookies and broke his heart into a million pieces. He hated that look. He'd do anything to rid that look from Shawn's face, to wipe the hurt from his eyes, and if that meant apologising 

“ Right,” Hunter soothed him, “ Of course we're friends,”

He pulled him into an awkward hug, draping his arm across the back of Shawn's shoulder, relieved that the smaller man didn't drag himself away this time. 

“ The guy in the hotel hit me with a vodka bottle,” Shawn whispered to his hands, “ And I keep dreaming...”   
he faltered, as if the words were lodged deep in the depths of his throat. 

Hunter closed his eyes, irrationally annoyed with himself. He kept saying he'd take care of him yet here was Shawn stuck amidst problems he simply couldn't take care of. He couldn't control Shawn's subconscious yet there was a painful ache in his gut where he wished he could. He wanted to help so damn badly, but was constantly rendered helpless and being powerless whilst Shawn visibly suffered irritated him. 

“ What did you dream?” He asked, hand consolingly clamped around his buddy's shoulder blade. 

“ I dreamt it was you,” Shawn confessed, “ I dreamt you were the guy. Sorta. Except you weren't. Not at first. At first you were you, and things were great but then, then it changed.” 

Hunter frowned. 

“ I wouldn't hit you.” 

The ache in his stomach heightened, spread to his chest and burned at his throat. He wished he could find the son of a bitch who'd haunted Shawn with his actions. He'd break every bone in his body before he was through, punishing him for the hurt he'd caused, chaining Shawn to nightmares and a prison of fear, a cage of darkness in which his memory and mind collided, presenting torment and warped imagery to his mind's eye. 

“ I know. I know you wouldn't. It was just a dream,” said Shawn, “ I just freaked out you know? I'm sorry.”

“ Don't be, you couldn't help it,” said Hunter. 

“ Yeah well, I didn't have to be a jerk about it,” 

“ True. I'll take an apology for that,” laughed Hunter, “ But you better mean it!” 

“ I'm sorry I was a jerk,” replied Shawn obediently, “ And I mean it” 

“ You didn't have to tell me you meant it,” Hunter's laughter increased. Shawn smiled slightly, Hunter's amusement infectious, the fear and anger he'd held tight in a knot at the base of his stomach loosening slightly as they sat, he could feel the bad feeling begin to diminish slightly. 

“ So you're alright?” 

Shawn nodded, shifting slightly so the space between them narrowed. 

“ And you're sure your head's ok?” Hunter fussed, tentatively cradling the back of his skull before allowing a hand to gently trace Shawn's temple, slowly paving its way across his cheek. Shawn sank against the warmth, resting against his friend's shoulder, cramped but content to be stuck between the corner and Hunter's frame. 

He tilted his head upwards as Hunter glanced downwards, resulting in their lips brushing together momentarily. He pulled backwards in alarm, fearful of Shawn's reaction. With heart thumping in his chest Shawn pulled Hunter closer, pressed his lips hungrily against his own in a desperate attempt to keep the feeling of contentment it had provided.  It wasn't the same as the others, he wasn't doing it for pills, he was doing it because he wanted to. It felt safe, and he wanted to keep that feeling. 

They remained like that on the floor, entwined together until the sun began its ascent, breaking over the horizon. 

“ You tired?” whispered Hunter 

“ Kinda” shrugged Shawn, his own voice matching Hunter's, as if afraid talking loudly would shatter the solace. 

“ We should go to sleep,” 

“ Yeah,” agreed Shawn half-heartedly, reluctant to leave. Unwilling to surrender himself to the emptiness of sleeping alone, not wanting to see if the nightmares would claim him again. 

“ Come with me?” he blurted, the plea escaping before he could prevent it.  Hunter stared, the vulnerability raw; that look again, shadowing his face. He nodded slowly before following Shawn upstairs, lying on the bed beside him. 

Shawn felt Hunter wrap himself around him, encircling him in his arms from behind, a comforting hold. He could feel Hunter's breath, light against his skin, and he snuggled into the pillows, allowing the pattern of his breathing to lull him into a satisfying sleep for the first time in months.


End file.
